


After the End

by owljustsitinthecorner



Series: Writing Practice [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Post-Apocalypse, Writing practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owljustsitinthecorner/pseuds/owljustsitinthecorner
Summary: Observations of a world not quite as mad as expected.





	After the End

_**It’s funny how people still obey traffic signs, even after a nuclear apocalypse.** _

For all the yelling and screaming and arguing about how humanity needed to “Save the planet!!” and “Mother Nature is dying!!” in the end, the Earth knows how to survive. After all, it did get hit by a meteor that decimated most life and bounced back with new types of life. Before the worst happened it was common to see eerie pictures of plant life growing back over abandoned areas shrouded in fog. Still, as everyone panicked about the environment and trying to “Go Green” little mind was paid to safety. And though it was slightly odd that all the nuclear power plants in every country blew at the same time, everyone was more concerned with survival. And habits.

The intersection is known for being the only one with all four stop signs standing, all others in what used to be a small rural town were collateral damage from The Panic. Local flora had grown to wrap around the pole and sign, a simple vine that mutated the ability to grow fruit. Those that were left knew that Mother Nature and The Planet didn’t give two fucks about them and had taken to ignoring the risks and wandering around freely. One who had been a child when fallout happened sat in their sling seat watching the intersection from their tree. They are a teenager now, much of their body suffering from mutations as a result of development and puberty occurring while surrounded by radioactive air. But each morning before leaving their parent sets them in their sling swing and they watch the overtaken town. Observes the people moving about while flanked by buildings dressed in the green vibrancy of local vines and trees. Watches as the genetic fallout that crippled them creates odd beauty in plants. Sees the 20 or so people left in the town and takes the time to laugh. Their home looks down upon the well-known intersection and everyone who comes to it, whether walking, riding, or driving, stops and waits for an undecided amount of time before continuing. The teen laughs at each person and laughs harder yet when more than one person comes to the intersection. To them, this stopping is nothing more than a bizarre ritual of a time unknown, to young to remember laws and social conventions from a time before the air was poisonous. And each person who stops hears the whoffing guffaws of the child they saw born healthy and grew up to be sick and can't find themselves caring. Some stop on purpose just to hear the child laugh. Some stop to feel connected to a time when the biggest worry was what TV show to watch. Some stop without realizing and move faster after they do because it’s just another painful reminder of what was lost, who was lost. And yet to the crippled child in their swing, they are all the same silly people observing the same silly ritual for the same silly reasons. And they laugh, enjoying the silliness even as the air burns their lungs and makes them weak. Silly people and their silly reasons. Silly people and their same silly habits.


End file.
